


An Awkward Proposal

by QuoteMyFoot



Series: Word Prompts for Three Houses [7]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, Flirting, Gen, Humor, given their supports you can read this as pre-relationship, you can also just read it as Dorothea roasting Sylvain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21682999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuoteMyFoot/pseuds/QuoteMyFoot
Summary: On a quiet evening, Sylvain teases Dorothea out of boredom. As always, she gives back as good as she gets.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault & Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Word Prompts for Three Houses [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1535843
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	An Awkward Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the November Daily Prompts on r/FanFiction. **November 7 (Throwback Thursday): Scaramouch – a boastful but cowardly person.**
> 
> I love Sylvain, but he needs a good telling off every now and then. Working on picking these up again for practise. Enjoy!

The evening was quiet and still. With the days growing shorter and colder, there was less and less time to spend in the meadows with lovely girls… and the lovely girls themselves were all bundled up against the cold and cut a significantly less pretty figure.

Well, except for Ingrid, but she was… Ingrid.

Sylvain had broken up with his latest girl – real and official, this time – a few days ago, but he was already growing bored of the single life. What did other guys do all the time if they weren’t flirting? Training? Then Sylvain would end up turning into Felix, and one of those was quite enough.

Tonight, Sylvain’s luck was in. He spotted Dorothea, all by herself, walking through the corridors near the lecture halls, and moved so that their paths would cross.

“Dorothea!” He grinned her at her. “What a pleasant surprise to run into you.”

She gave him a baleful look. “Oh, Sylvain.”

This was hardly the worst response he’d gotten from a woman, so Sylvain wasn’t much deterred. “Alone again tonight?” he asked. “Would you care for some companionship? I was thinking that we could get dinner in town…”

Dorothea groaned. “Walking all the way to town? In this weather? You must be out of your mind.”

Ah, southern flowers. Beautiful to look at, but absolutely useless in the cold. He laughed. “Not used to the frost, huh? Oh, you’d make a terrible Margravine Gautier. Is that why you turned down Count Algarve’s son, too? Is Algarve territory too far north for you?”

She stopped suddenly, narrowing her eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You know, that knight who was pursuing you. Count Algarve’s second son.” Sylvain shook his head, mock-mournfully. “For someone who’s trying to secure their future with a good marriage, you’re awfully picky, you know. It’s not _that_ long until we graduate. Time’s running out!”

“A second son with no inheritance,” Dorothea repeated flatly. “Wow. What good prospects. I’m such a fool for turning him down. Not wanting to be penniless isn’t ‘picky’, Mr. _Noble Heir.”_

Yes, yes, the noble heir, Sylvain had heard it all before… from literally everyone. At the end of the day, it was the only thing that mattered to anyone else. But verbal sparring with Dorothea made it easy to pretend otherwise for a while.

“Ah, you’re bewitching even when employing heavy sarcasm! No wonder all the men are after you.” Sylvain tucked his hands behind his head, stretching. “But come on, you know Gerard Algarve’s situation is just like _any_ second son.”

“Oh, really?” Dorothea asked, her tone dismissive and bored. She started walking again, shooting him an annoyed glanced when he easily kept pace with her. “Why don’t you tell me about him some other time? For that matter, I’m not in the mood to be flirted at tonight, so if you’d kindly—”

“Weeell, if you’re _so_ opposed to my company, I won’t stay.” He had to admit that she was a good actress. If he didn’t already know she was covering something up, he would never have guessed her disinterest was faked. “Strange that you need me to tell you more about Gerard Algarve, though. Since he’s already told you all about his chronically ill older brother who will never marry and could, Goddess protect him, die at any minute, making Gerard the heir.”

She stopped abruptly and whirled to face him, clenching her fists. “What?”

“His territory borders Gautier, so we met a few times as kids. He doesn’t have many other friends here, and I guess he decided to come crying to me when you broke his heart.” He clasped a hand to his chest and pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.

Dorothea let out a growl. “Well if you knew that, why didn’t you just say so? Ugh, this is why you’re so annoying to talk to. You won’t let yourself be serious about _anything._ ”

 _Won’t ‘let’ myself, huh?_ Sylvain supposed she had a point, but… “I’m not serious about _anything?_ A little too harsh, don’t you think?”

“And calling me ‘picky’ because I don’t want to spend every day until I die with the most boring man on the face of this earth is not too harsh?” Dorothea hissed.

“Boring, huh… is that why you dumped him?”

She sighed. “If you must know, yes, it was. As painful as it was, even being a Countess is not worth going mad from boredom.”

Sylvain couldn’t disagree. Gerard wasn’t a _bad_ man by any means, but he was extremely pious… which would’ve been all well and good if he had any other hobbies whatsoever. In small doses, Sylvain was quite able to make sympathetic noises and tolerate his company. Being in his company every day… might get more grating.

“If it’s boredom you’re afraid of, are you sure you don’t want by company? I guarantee you won’t be bored.”

“Oh, on the contrary, I find your insipid, disingenuous flirting _quite_ boring.” Dorothea pursed her lips, studying him for a minute with clinical eyes. Then, disturbingly, she beamed at him. “But since you’re _so_ concerned about my future, let’s get married.”

Sylvain swallowed. “Uh, what?”

“Well, you know, you fill all _my_ criteria,” Dorothea said. “Rich, handsome, and I assume you could really interest a lady if you weren’t terrified of rejection.” _What?_ “And you think everyone only values you for your money and your Crest anyway, right? Why not at least take someone who’s honest about it? I won’t even mind if you want to keep flirting with other women as long as you keep me in comfort. You can’t say fairer than that! So, how about it?”

He stared at her. There was an odd gleam in her eye. She couldn’t actually be serious, could she? “Wait a second…”

“Oh, are you saying your family wouldn’t accept a commoner as your bride?” Her expression grew sorrowful. “Such a shame… and I thought we’d make a great pair.”

“That’s not… I mean…”

His father wouldn’t exactly be _happy_ if Sylvain married a commoner, but he could probably get away with it if he really insisted. Unlike other noble families, it wasn’t just the prestige of a Crest that House Gautier wanted, but specifically _the Gautier Crest._ In some ways, Dorothea was a better prospect than a noble woman who might pass down the wrong Crest.

But… marrying Dorothea? Like, for real? The thought was… wrong. He could really see himself getting on with Dorothea. She was beautiful, witty, intelligent. When they’d dined out together, it had been _fun._ Even if they were never in love with one another, it wouldn’t be a bad marriage—certainly better than many nobles got.

Somehow, that was exactly why the idea of it twisted his stomach so much.

“Lost for words, are we?” she said coldly. All semblance of the smile had gone, as had, to Sylvain’s relief, the pretence of sadness. So she hadn’t been serious. “If you want to keep flirting and declaring your love for every woman you meet but be too cowardly to ever have a meaningful relationship with one of them, then be my guest… but don’t think you have room to criticise how _I_ organise my love life.” She smiled again, but he knew this one was fake: it didn’t reach her eyes. “Goodnight, Sylvain.”

“Uh, night,” he remembered to add before she was completely out of earshot.

_She really doesn’t hold back when she’s mad, huh?_

Sylvain honestly hadn’t meant to make her genuinely angry. He didn’t really care why she’d turned down Gerard Algarve or any of them. It just struck him as odd and he wanted to know why. But you could equally ask why he flirted with so many women but never made a genuine connection to any of them… ‘terrified of rejection’, huh… _ow._ Point taken, Dorothea. No more nosy Sylvain.

_Maybe I’ll just… eat alone tonight._


End file.
